


if this storm was just a motion

by Athelred (TheLatePapers)



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Kissing, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 15:03:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13592595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLatePapers/pseuds/Athelred
Summary: A quiet talk featuring things John Silver cannot bring himself to say.





	if this storm was just a motion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Phlogistics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phlogistics/gifts).



> this was a short thing for a tumblr prompt that i wrote....before season 4 aired? i think?

Silver was exhausted, but more comfortable than he had been in recent memory, and lying in a bed next to Flint, of all people. He sunk a little deeper towards true sleep as he smiled to himself, the phrase taking on an entirely different meaning as it circled in his head. Of all people. 

He felt Flint's hand brush against his face, tucking an escaped curl behind his ear. He could feel Flint's gaze on him, and opened his eyes just enough to watch Flint watching him. Everything in him stilled as he took in the expression on Flint's face. Soft and with the strange sadness that Silver had seen on Flint's face many times but never directed at him. It was strange to feel the twist of something that he might once have called guilt in his chest at having put that expression on Flint's face. Flint's hand lingered on the side of Silver's head, his thumb tracing the line of Silver's cheek.

Silver bit his tongue to keep from questioning it as Flint leaned over him and pressed a soft kiss to his temple, murmuring words so quiet Silver couldn't catch them even though they were spoken a breath from his skin. He reached up and cupped Flint's head, pulling his face down to press a featherlight kiss of his own to Flint's brow and then a more insistent one to his mouth. 

The need for air and their mutual exhaustion drove them apart more quickly than Silver would have liked, but Flint laid down close beside him. His hand was still in Silver's hair, lazily carding through the loose strands. 

"I love you," Flint said. His voice was sure and private, his breath hot on Silver's ear.

And Silver felt himself stop. He knew Flint felt it, too, which was worse. His first instinct was to say, "Don't."

For an instant he felt like he was fighting to hold back the word with his teeth before he was able to swallow it down again. The shadow of the man he had been whispered that he could use this, if he wanted, this was God opening him a window. If he was to be Flint's destruction, then he would wrap Flint in his arms and whisper sweet nothings back to him. 

And maybe love would leave Flint's back open for a knife. Not necessarily one wielded by Silver himself. What a gruesome weapon he had just been handed. 

The revulsion that twisted through him at the thought was not surprising, but also, he thought, perhaps not as strong as it should have been. 

He closed his eyes for a long breath and took strength from the dark.

He turned his head to Flint and opened his eyes to look at Flint's. Flint's pupils were blown wide in the fading candlelight, and he was watching Silver steadily. Something in the set of his face a little like anger, a little like fear, ruined whatever facsimile of patience he was affecting. 

"How do you know?" Silver heard the words leave his mouth before he had quite given them permission. Spilling out quietly on his breath and staining the air like wine. 

A smile tugged at the edge of Flint’s mouth, “Past experience makes a thing identifiable.”

Silver curled into him, feeling the softness on Flint’s face echoed on his own, “I have none.”

They studied one another in the half-light.

“Do you expect answer in kind?” Silver said.

“It wouldn’t be unwelcome.”

“And if I can’t?”

Flint watched him, apparently waiting for Silver to come up with his own answer. Silver couldn’t find it. And settled for pressing another kiss to Flint’s mouth, something tight and bright and warm nestling in his chest.


End file.
